


Don't Ever Think Anything Through (It Works, I Promise)

by TimeToPanicAndOrCry



Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: (I hope), Canon-Typical Violence, Character Development, Comedy, F/M, Galmar is Done™, Non-dragonborn oc - Freeform, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pining, Pippa is fucking oblivious, Racism, Slow Burn, Slow To Update, Swearing, This Is Why We Can't Have Nice Things, just like her, never leave Pippa and Ulfric alone nothing gets acomplished, no betas we die like men, no one takes anything seriously, strap in folks this is gonna be fucking stupid, this whole fic is going to be chaotic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-12
Updated: 2019-07-23
Packaged: 2020-06-25 20:37:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,369
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19753381
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TimeToPanicAndOrCry/pseuds/TimeToPanicAndOrCry
Summary: Pippa is a humble Breton working as a servant in the Palace of the Kings. Raised by a Dunmer farmer outside of the city walls, she is hard-working, tenacious, and clever.Yet she still manages to be an absolute idiot.In the space of thirty minutes, she: picks a fight with Rolff Stone-Fist, talks shit about the jarl in his own damn throne room, and then joins a war just to pester said jarl into fundamentally changing his entire outlook on life. But that doesn't mean she isn't going to be the best damn Stormcloak anyone's ever seen. She doesn't do things halfway.And if she accidentally falls in love with him, well, that's just one more stupid thing she's going to be doing. ;)





	1. Chapter 1

The first light of dawn filtered through the small window set in the thick stone wall. It's gentle glow flooded over the cramped room, illuminating the shabby wardrobe, chest, and bedside table. In the fur-piled bed pushed into one small corner, a mound of blankets snored softly. Only a tuft of blonde hair could be seen poking out of the top of the blanket burrito. Unfortunately for the burrito's inhabitant, a thundering noise sounded from outside the peeling wooden door.

"OI! PIPPA! GET YOUR ASS OUT OF BED ALREADY, YOU'VE GOTTA GO TO THE MARKET TODAY!" A brash voice in a thick Nord accent accompanied the harsh banging on the poor, abused door until a weak groan arose from the tightly knotted heap.

"I'm up, I'm up," Pippa muttered sluggishly, clawing her way into a sitting position. She rubbed her eyes with a moan of dissatisfaction, blinking around at the room blearily. Then, her eyes brightened dramatically, and a happy gasp tore from her throat. "It's market day!" Pippa flew out of bed, nearly tripping over her ball of furs, not bothering to pick them back up, throwing on the nearest tunic she could find, and dashing out the door.

"Took you long enough," grumbled the disgruntled looking servant retreating down the hallway.

"Sorry, Greta!" Pippa called gleefully over her shoulder, skidding around the corner and bolting up the stairs two at a time, before bursting through the iron door into the cold Skyrim morning. With a gleam in her eye, she stared up at the blue skies and inhaled the crisp air deeply. It was an unusually nice day for Windhelm, and even though she could just barely make out storm clouds encroaching over the tall stone walls, she set out with the intention of enjoying every moment of the rare sunshine.

The alleyway that led from the servant's entrance was quiet save for her cheerful humming, and soon she was turning into Valunstrad. Ahead of her, she could see a figure turning onto the residential avenue as well, and she called out a friendly greeting to him, "Calixto! Weirdly nice day, isn't it?"

The man grinned and sent a pleasant wave her way, "Aye, but there's a storm brewing! Best get your business done and get back inside before you freeze!"

Pippa laughed as she passed him, "I'd much rather stand out here in the snow than be stuck in that stuffy palace all day!"

"Well, that makes one of us then!"

Pippa smiled jovially while she walked down the steps to the Stone Quarter. There, she saw Suvaris, a Dunmer dock-manager she knew from hanging around the New Gnisis Cornerclub, speaking to a traveler in ill-fitting armor. "Suvaris!" She called, approaching the woman with a grin, which quickly faded as she took in the pinched look on her face. "What's the matter?"

Suvaris turned to her, "This is Pippa, she works in the castle," she said to the stranger, who nodded their head politely.

Pippa quirked her lips up in an attempt to seem as friendly as possible amidst the tense atmosphere, before returning her attention back to Suvaris, "It wasn't Stone-Fist again, was it?" Suvaris nodded gravely, and Pippa cursed under her breath. "By the Nine, if that bastard puts one more toe out of line, I'm going to-"

"You know that's too dangerous. His connections with the Palace are too powerful; you could be fired, or worse."

Pippa sighed, "I know, I just hate when people think they get to push others around like that. You let me know if he bothers you again, okay?"

Suvaris gave a tight-lipped smile, "Of course, Pippa. Now, you go on with your duties. I'll be just fine."

Pippa frowned, displeased, but nodded nonetheless, sending one more little smile at the nervous stranger before continuing on her way. The storm clouds had fully rolled over the city by the time she finished at the market, and the first flurries of snow had begun to fall. In her arms, she carried a small basket of cloth and various sewing supplies for the ladies working in the laundry room, along with the written promises from the vendors that supplies would be delivered first thing in the morning. She was just about to turn into Valunstrad once again when a commotion from down by the Grey Quarter caught her attention.

In the distance, two figures shoved each other back and forth. "Yer a disgrace, slummin' aroun' wit them filfy grey-shkins," one of them slurred loudly, his voice echoing across the snowy stone towards her ears. She immediately recognized it as Rolff Stone-Fist. Before she had time to think about it, she dropped the basket and was bolting down the street towards them.

"OI!" she roared, barreling straight into Rolff, sending him flying off of the man she then saw was Brunwulf Free-Winter.

"Lass, what're you-" before Brunwulf could finish, Rolff was back on his feet, swinging violently at Pippa. Through pure instinct, she dodged it, kicking him hard in the stomach and sending him toppling back down.

"The only filthy one here is you, you intolerant milk-drinker!" she spat over his drunken groans.

"Imma show you filfy, you stupid whore," he garbled, heaving to his knees this time and grabbing her by the ankle. With a yelp, her feet were swept out from under her and she hit the ground hard. His hand still an iron grip around her leg, she kicked her feet wildly, nailing him right in the jaw. Brunwulf hauled her to her feet while Rolff stumbled to his, and this time she wound back her fist and hit him straight in the nose. He yowled in pain, and she was winding back to hit him again when a shout stopped her.

"Halt!" A guard rushed towards them frantically.

"Fuck..."

~*~*~*~

Pippa shuffled awkwardly under Jorleif's stern glare. The palace was in full swing around them, soldiers stomping through the halls and servants bustling about underfoot trying to keep things looking presentable. Though they did slow noticeably as they passed her by, with quiet snickers floating around her ears.

"So," Jorleif began. "Fighting with the General's younger brother, huh?"

Pippa winced, "I mean, I wouldn't call it fighting..."

"You knocked him unconscious."

"That was the booze!"

Jorleif pinched the bridge of his nose, "Miss... what was it again?"

"Pippa."

"Pippa. You know this kind of behavior simply cannot be tolerated from palace staff. You seem a good lass, but frankly, my hands are tied here."

"Your hands are tied?!" Pippa's voice echoed across the hall, passersby stopping in their tracks. "You mean to tell me that it is the policy of the palace to fire anybody that stands up against narrow-minded bullies that take pleasure in the suffering of other people?!"

Jorlief gaped at her in alarm, "Miss, I-"

"NO! Everyone knows that the situation in the Grey Quarter is unjust as all bollocks, but nobody says anything about it because the Jarl is as intolerant and narrow-minded as every other Nord in this damn city! You preach about being the sons and daughters of Skyrim, and yet I don't see any of you doing anything to help her most persecuted! And by the Nine, if Ulfric Stormcloak has a _problem_ with his employees spitting in the face of the injustice _he_ is responsible for, he can come down here and fire me himself!"

Pippa panted heavily, her face burning red. The hall had gone completely silent, and Jorleif was staring at her in abject horror. Wait, no, he wasn't staring at her, he was staring into the space just about her left shoulder...

"He's right behind me, isn't he?"

She turned around slowly, craning her neck back to look up at one very angry Ulfric Stormcloak. "Pippa, was it?" He drawled, his voice low and dangerous. Pippa would be lying if she said she wasn't at all intimidated by the man, especially considering he was twice her size in both height and width.

"Um, y-yes?"

"Well, _Pippa,_ if you wanted to be fired personally, you needed only ask..."

"Um, I think I did," she said, cursing herself internally the moment the words left her mouth.

"Do you think this is a game, girl?"

"Okay, first of all, please don't call me 'girl'. It's a little weird, to be honest. And second of all, I don't think this is a game at all, actually. I think that you're more concerned with killing Imperials than with governing fairly. Just because you're the leader of a war doesn't mean you're not also the leader of a city."

If looks could kill, Pippa would be a pile of ashes across the palace floor. It's only because of years of living with a Dumner that could literally shoot fire of his hands that the heat of his glare didn't make her back up. "Every day brave soldiers give their lives to protect people like _you_ from _unfair governing_ by the Imperial Legion. You dare mock their sacrifice by suggesting they do not seek to free all of Skyrim's people?" he growled.

"I fully respect the men and women fighting against the Imperials, and I never said that I didn't. What I'm mocking is your decision to use their service as a reason to exclude those you don't deem 'worthy' from the title of 'Skyrim's people'!" Somewhere behind her, she could swear she heard Jorleif let out a quiet groan of despair.

"I will consider them people of Skyrim when they fight and die for her freedom!"

"You've never given them reason to! I'm a Breton and I would fight and die for Skyrim if you put a sword in my hand, but only because I was raised not being treated like scum by all of her people!"

"Maybe I will then!" he roared, his voice practically shaking the windows around them. "If you're so dedicated to Skyrim regardless of your race, then you should have no qualms about fighting for her liberation!"

Pippa fumed venomously, "Fine! Where do I sign up! Maybe if you have an example of non-Nords being competent in battle you'll pull your head out of your ass!"

"GALMAR! GET THIS WOMAN A UNIFORM!" And with that he turned on his heel and swept out of the hall fuming, leaving a baffled Pippa behind him. Galmar emerged from the war room looking positively livid. He stalked toward her silently, and this time she really did take a step back. A quiet Galamar was never good.

"Looks like you've been drafted, whelp." His voice was calm, but it dripped with poison. "What size of armor do you wear."


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pippa doesn't think before she makes decisions and her father is n o t a m u s e d .

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The noise I made when I realized people were actually reading this was not unlike a hamster being stepped on lmao.

Snow crunched under Pippa's boots as she made her way out of the city. She knew the winding, snow-covered road like the back of her hand. Fond memories played in her mind of her younger days, chasing torchbugs under the setting sun and waving at boats passing through the harbor. Her first pleasant moments were had outside the looming walls of the oldest city in Skyrim.

A soft bleat shook her out of her thoughts. Looking down, she laughed at the mangy goat tugging at her pant leg. "Hey, Greta, old gal," she murmured, patting her on the head. "Da feed you already?" Greta let out a mournful sound, staring up at Pippa with pleading eyes.

Pippa chuckled, "You know, I bet he did, but when has that ever stopped me?" She pulled a hunk of bread out of her satchel and offered it to the goat. Greta snatched it from her fingertips, bleating happily, before scampering off into the fields. Pippa gave a fond smile, taking a moment to look around. Before her stood a humble cabin, smoke curling from the chimney welcomingly. Behind it, fields of wheat sprawled out, golden under the last light of day. She breathed in deeply, taking in the peaceful scents of home.

The door opened with a familiar squeak, a product of the hinge that never fit quite right. She kicked off her boots by the door, calling out across the cabin, "Da! I'm home!"

" _Pippa Azala Hlaalu!_ "

"Uh oh."

An irritated looking Belyn Hlaalu appeared from the stairwell to the basement, "You have a lot of explaining to do, young lady!"

Pippa grinned nervously, "Da! There you are!"

"Don't 'Da' me! What's this I hear about you running off and joining the Stormcloaks?!"

"Listen, Da, I-"

"I've always said you're going to get yourself killed not thinking things through one of these days, and now look at you, joining the _army?!_ You've never fought a day in your life, you're hardly equipped to-"

"Da," Pippa took a step forward, wrapping her arms firmly around his shoulders and burying her face in his neck. "It's good to see you."

Belyn let out a shuddering breath beside her ear, before pulling her into a tight hug. "What were you thinking, Pip?" He whispered to her shakily.

"Things need to change, Da," Pippa whispered back. "I know you believe hard work is the only thing that will earn the Dunmer respect in Skyrim, but I can't stand by and watch without doing anything to help."

Belyn pulled back to look at her, "And you think fighting for the Stormcloaks will change anything?" he said incredulously.

"Their cause is sound, but they don't think anybody but Nords is fit to support it. They need somebody to prove them wrong."

"And what if you die, Pippa?! What then?!"

"I _won't._ You've taught me how to defend myself, and I'm not as weak and defenseless as everybody thinks I am. You know that. So don't worry about it!"

Belyn frowned disapprovingly, but Pippa could see his lip was trembling. He brought a hand to her face and smoothed his thumb over her forehead, "You're my daughter. I'm supposed to worry about you."

Pippa smiled, resting her hand on his, "I'll come home, Da. I promise."

He looked at her for a long while, and something seemed to shift in his eyes, like he was seeing her for the first time, "You'd better. Or you'll be working the fields until your fingers bleed."

Pippa's laughter filled the cabin, and everything was okay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this chapter was kind of short, I'll probably keep working on the next one once it's up, I just thought it should end where it did; it just felt right I guess. Maybe it's because I'm listening to the Shire theme from LoTR and got all sentimental lmao.


End file.
